What harp would you play,
As nascent humanity burns?
Fires into ones own homes!!
What agendas, What spotlights?
What headlines are sought?
Which God, Which heaven
Which pilgrimage is reached?
Feeling ashamed to be called human
As if my own skin melts, eyes bleed, ears torn..
Excesses of a narcissism, A belief to be born for purpose
Striking rebellions, slaughter without rhyme or reason…
When will it dawn we are here just like sand, waves, grass,
Ephemeral with no greater design but as part of a picture
Its the choice of becoming smile or sore on nature’s muse
But today its all black, red, opaque, dense and clotted…..
What harp would you play,as tender velvet rose gardens bleed?
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